Prodigy
by J. Watson
Summary: It's the early 1980's. Rupert Giles is trying to build a future with Olivia when he's paid a visit by rogue Watcher, Holden. The recent Slayer is missing, and Holden is suspected of the unthinkable. Will Giles discover the truth? Did the Slayer's disability make her an innocent target?
1. Tuesday Morning

December 1984—London, England

It was early morning, and Rupert Giles nestled his nose at the base of Olivia Williams' neck. He loved the smell of jasmine and lavender that emanated from her skin.

Olivia slowly awakened by his touch. "Is this how you'll be waking me up in the morning?"

"Only the gentlest of wake up calls for my lady," said Giles, as he kissed Olivia on the cheek.

"I'm famished from last night," said Olivia playfully.

"Then, I shall make us some tea. Would you like me to warm up some toast as well?"

"That sounds lovely, Rupert. Please tell me you still have some of that lemon curd."

"Of course. I always make sure to have some handy for a special occasion."

Giles loved how the morning light danced over Olivia's ebony skin. Her dreadlocks spilled over his burgundy pillows.

She smiled as she raised the blankets to cover her bosom. Giles fetched his boxers and robe from the floor, and put them on. He needed to keep warm, as a wintry draft seemed to be spilling in from outside.

"I shall be back with sustenance," said Giles, as he walked to the kitchen.

Giles admired Olivia's charcoal drawings, which were draped throughout his apartment. He was astonished at the detail in her artwork, particularly of the new species of demons that were discovered in New Zealand. Since the Council Library was damaged by a recent storm, they needed an artist to reproduce the lost manuscripts. Olivia was hired to do the job, and Giles couldn't help but pursue her.

He checked out his reflection in the oval mirror that hung above his fireplace. Giles' hair was cropped short in the back, though he had a wavy strand that swept over his forehead. He looked at how the robe fit tightly around his torso, and resolved to spend more hours playing racquetball. It seems that the long hours spent studying at Council Headquarters, and having the occasional pint, were showing around his midsection.

For the past eight years, Giles had been trying to repair his reputation. He almost ruined the legacy built by his grandmother Edna, his grandfather and father, and the other members of his family. On the cusp of thirty, Giles looked forward to burying his Ripper days for eternity. He hoped that Olivia could be a part of that future.

Giles opened his refrigerator. He checked the side compartment for the lemon curd. _Bloody hell_, thought Giles, as he checked every nook and cranny. Then, he remembered. _There's an unopened bottle in the cabinet_.

As Giles turned, he jumped back at the figure that loomed in his peripheral vision. He instinctively reached for a butcher knife.

"Put the bloody knife down, Giles, it's me, Holden." Holden had his arms outstretched in surrender. Giles examined Holden. He looked sallow, and as terror-stricken as a terrier. Nothing at all like the suave character that Giles recalled from prior years. There was what looked like burnt flesh on his neck and scars on his face.

"Holden. How the hell did you get into my apartment?" asked Giles.

"You still leave the key underneath the flower pot," responded Holden. "I'm sorry about being here. I didn't mean to alarm you."

"I should call the authorities on you," said Giles.

"Please reconsider, Rupert. How long have we known each other? Please give me the chance to explain what happened first," said Holden.

"Albert explained everything to us. He said that you kidnapped that poor girl, and disappeared into thin air," said Giles. "He told us about your proclivities."

"Proclivities? Albert is slandering my character to cover up what he did," said Holden.

"You're not helping your case. You've been gone for over a year," said Giles. "What did you do to her?"

"Has another Slayer been called?" asked Holden concernedly.

"You'd know the answer to that. No," said Giles adamantly.

"Then, she's still alive," said Holden to himself.

"Rupert, do you need help with the tea?" called Olivia from the bedroom.

Giles shot a wary glance at his old friend. He kept the knife pointed at Holden. "I'm fine, dear. It took me a while to find the teabags. I'm a bit famished, so I'm going to make some frittatas for us. Doesn't that sound splendid?"

"I don't know. That's pretty fancy for a Tuesday morning, Rupert."

"We're both off this morning, so we might as well feast like royalty. Why don't you draw yourself a nice bath while I prepare everything?"

"All right…is everything fine, Rupert?"

"Yes, Livia, everything's fine." Giles hoped that Olivia wouldn't hear the inflection in his voice. She seemed to not suspect anything, as Giles heard the bath water turn on.

As Giles looked at Holden again, he wondered what happened to put Holden in his current state.


	2. Not Like Other Girls

April 1983—Los Angeles, California

By the third attempt, Albert Eberling and Holden Ridley finally found Christine Dove High School. It was no wonder they could not find it. The school was located on a one-way street in downtown Los Angeles. _It was a good thing we asked that transvestite for directions_, thought Albert, as he and Holden got off their vehicle.

"Finally," said Albert, "You git. I can't believe you got a vehicle without air conditioning. I feel so hacky right now."

"No worries," said Holden, "We're likely to still make a good impression. Good god, wipe your brow, mate. Use this."

Holden passes Albert his handkerchief.

"So, this is where the psychics said she'd be?" asked Albert, as he wipes his brow.

"Indeed," said Albert, "All right, we're looking for a girl named Ananda Kanok."

"Kanok?" asked Albert, "What's her race?"

"Thai, I believe," said Holden, "The psychics gave no other details—other than Ananda having musical gifts."

"They said that?" asked Albert.

"More like…'waves of classical charms are weaved from her fingertips,'" said Holden.

"Very cryptic. We could be looking for a prostitute, for all we know," said Albert.

"Charming, Albert," said Holden, "Are we sticking to the plan?"

"Yes. We're British filmmakers documenting the U.S. school experience," said Albert.

"Perfect," said Holden, "Don't mess everything up, all right mate."

"Promise," said Albert, as he hands back the handkerchief.

* * *

><p>"May I help you?" asked a brunette woman.<p>

"Yes, actually," said Holden, "We're looking for the principal's office."

"Yes, her office is down the hall, three doors to the right."

"Thank you," said Holden. As they walked towards the principal's office, Holden reminded Albert about the cover story.

Upon meeting Principal Stokes, and seeing Albert's annoyed expressions, Holden knew he would have to take charge.

"My colleague and I, Principal Stokes, are doing a documentary on American teenagers," said Holden.

"Oh really, is there a particular focus you both have?"

"Well, we were thinking music. We've heard about your prestigious music program."

"Yes, our teachers and students work very hard to be the best," said Principal Stokes.

"We heard the students outside talk about a particular student—Ananda Kanok. I overheard them saying she plays music."

"Yes, Ananda is quite a prodigy," said Principal Stokes, "We've never had a student who can expertly play woodwind, percussion and brass instruments. She hears a piece once, and she can play it in seconds."

"Do you think we could interview her for the film?" asked Holden.

"Normally, I would say yes. But Ananda just lost her grandmother. She used to live in what they call 'Thai Town,' a local area. Now, she's living in foster care. Also, we've been having some disciplinary problems with her."

"I'm sorry about Ananda's loss. With all due respect, Principal Stokes, it would be nice to do a segment on her—even if it's a short one."

"I'll see what I can do, but I can't make any guarantees," said Principal Stokes, "Ananda has her own mind, you know."

"Would it be possible then, to meet Ananda and the other band members?" asked Holden.

"Of course," said Principal Stokes, "if you return at 3:00pm, which is about an hour, the band will start rehearsing."

"Wonderful," said Holden, "so what instrument is Ananda currently playing?"

"The violin. In fact, she's our only violinist right now," said Principal Holden.

"We look forward to meeting her, don't we Albert?"

Albert nodded.

"Fantastic, gentlemen. Oh, just to let you both know. Ananda is not like other girls."

"That's what we figure," said Holden.

* * *

><p>"There must be some mistake," said Albert, tightening his suit jacket. The school's air conditioning was freezing, if not hellish.<p>

"The principal said she's the only student that plays the violin," said Holden.

"I just can't…Are you sure there isn't a mistake?" asked Albert. His face was flushed and flustered.

"There's the other evidence."

"Other evidence?" asked Albert.

"Yes. The broken mirrors and tables…the student she threw," said Holden.

"What's so unusual about that? Don't they do that when they're upset?" barked Albert.

"The boy is a football player—all 350 pounds and 6'2" of him. It's impossible for a young girl her size to do that," said Holden, "There's also the pictures she drew."

Holden pointed at the drawings from the Art Club—there was a charcoal drawing of a girl holding a stake, striking fanged creatures. The drawing had Ananda Kanok typed underneath.

"Face it, Albert, Ananda is our Slayer."

Albert peers into the classroom, and watches Ananda and the other students. _How can you miss her?_ thought Albert, _when she bloody looks like that_. Ananda was playing violin, her eyes fixed to the teacher.

"I just can't believe it, Holden. We have a war going on. The Slayer is not supposed to have Down's Syndrome."


	3. Treading on Old Grounds

While Olivia took a bath, Giles made meeting arrangements with Holden. They would meet at Epping Forest. Holden was paranoid, and the forest seemed like the only isolated environment that came to mind. At least it wouldn't be as conspicuous as meeting at the park.

Then, Holden scanned outside through the curtains, and dashed off like a hyperactive cat.

As Giles and Olivia sat at the dining table, it became apparent that something was amiss. Despite his claims of being famished, Giles barely touched his tea and frittata. Giles finally noticed Olivia's concerned stares.

"Oh, I think I put too much paprika. It isn't quite agreeing with me," said Giles as a lame excuse.

"Poor Rupert. Would you like more tea? Maybe it will make you feel better?" asked Olivia.

"No, in fact, I need to go the library…for research," said Giles.

"Oh, but you're off this week. And…I thought we were going to the market today. To pick up a few things for our gathering tonight," said Olivia.

"We certainly will do that still, Livia. It's just…I forgot to complete my research on a particular text. It will ease my mind to have that ready for my return. Travers hinted that he'll be giving me additional assignments. It's best to finish one project before starting on the other, I always say," said Giles.

Lying to Olivia made him feel uncomfortable. He was always straightforward with her, and it pained him to know that he was deceiving her.

"I understand," said Olivia. "Just…don't take too long. I'm absolutely hopeless when it comes to picking out petunias for the centerpiece."

"I promise I won't be long, my love," said Giles, as he kissed Olivia on the forehead.

"You're leaving now?" asked Olivia.

"At light speed, my dear. The sooner I finish that mundane research, the sooner we can have our afternoon excursion," said Giles. "Leave everything there. I'll tidy up when I return. Just, uh, think of some exquisite side dishes for the quail."

"Will do, love," said Olivia. Although Giles was still in the other room getting dressed, she felt very isolated.

* * *

><p>Giles met Holden at the same spot where they used to hang out as teenagers. Back then, their interaction involved beer and hallucinogenic substances. It was there that they once got so high that Ethan Rayne convinced everyone to summon a demon. Giles shuddered at how careless he had once been. He was glad to have Olivia to keep him ground.<p>

"Thank you for meeting me here, Rupert," said Holden. "Do you think anyone followed you here?"

"No one followed me here, Holden. They have no reason to suspect that you're back in England," said Giles. "I'm still finding it hard to believe that you're here."

"I'm sure Albert's lies have altered your perception of me," said Holden.

"Actually, yes. What we supposed to think, Holden? You went missing and so did the Slayer," said Giles.

"It was absolutely necessary, Rupert. I should've known what Albert's intentions were from the start," said Holden.

* * *

><p>Eventually, Holden and Albert entered the room to observe the band. Holden expected to be studying Ananda the whole time. Instead, it was Ananda who kept looking in Holden and Albert's way. When band practice ended, and students began packed up their belongings, Holden started conversing with Mrs. Harker—the band teacher.<p>

"Why yes," said Mrs. Harker, "Principal Stokes told me about your visit. Ananda is an extraordinary student."

"How long has she been with the school band?" asked Holden. He could see Albert rolling his eyes in his peripheral vision.

"She has been with the band since her freshman year. Two years, and she's still going strong. Especially considering what she's been through."

"We heard about her grandmother from Principal Stokes," said Holden, trying to include Albert in the conversation.

"Yes, but fortunately there have been some bright spots. Her heart defects have miraculously healed. She was going to get surgery for it."

"That is miraculous," said Holden. Just then, Ananda made eye contact with him as she packed her violin.

"Well, we hope to see you tomorrow," said Mrs. Harker.

"Sure will," said Holden.

Mrs. Harker pulled out her cigarette pack. "God, I've been dying for one of these," she muttered to herself.

Ananda was busy speaking to her classmates, so Holden signaled Albert for them to wait outside.

Holden remained silent as they walked out of the music hall. Once they were out of sight, he unleashed on Albert.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" demanded Holden.

Albert remained silent.

"So you have nothing to bloody say about your demeanor. You almost ruined our plan! How are we supposed to get close to the Slayer?"

"She's not a Slayer, Holden. Just because she can play a damn violin doesn't make her capable."

"Why are you prejudging her? Is it because of her disability? Like it or not, Albert, she is the Slayer and we must guide her."

"She might not be for long," said Albert.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" asked Holden, getting close to Albert's face.

"I mean…I mean she might not last long out there," said Albert.

"Really? And why? Because she wasn't properly trained by her Watchers. Which is exactly what I don't want to happen," said Holden.

"Fine, mate, I'm sorry. I was just…surprised. It's just an adjustment for me, that's all," said Albert.

"Well, you better get adjusted quickly. We need to report back there tomorrow morning. Be prepared…you're supposed to be an expert cameraman from a top film school. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Promise," said Albert.

"Splendid," responded Holden, coldly.

They could see Ananda leaving the school grounds with some friends.

"It looks like our meeting will have to take place tomorrow," said Holden. "We'll be here first thing at noon. Perhaps we can have a word with her during the lunch hour."

"Fine by me," said Albert.

"We have a mission, Albert. And we will accomplish it," said Holden, "Now, let's go back to our hotel and prepare."

"Right," said Albert. "I promise to do what the Council asks of me."


End file.
